


Royalty's Regrets

by I Write What I Want (SpeckledCoffeeCups)



Category: The Inheritance Cycle - Christopher Paolini
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-02
Updated: 2016-05-07
Packaged: 2018-06-05 21:20:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6724006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpeckledCoffeeCups/pseuds/I%20Write%20What%20I%20Want
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The end of the war is approaching, and Galbatorix decides he must unveil his secret weapon; His Daughter.  Hidden away for almost a hundred years, the half elf princess and shur'tugal is the last hope for the king to win the war.<br/>After witnessing the torture of Eragon Shadeslayer, Maybeline decides to flee from the castle leaving behind the only home she's known for the past century.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> This work was originally posted on my fanfiction.net account when I was a freshman in High School. I'm now a freshmen in college and found this hidden away in my laptop and figured I would post it here, since I still have a deep love for this work. I hope you guys enjoy.  
> All the Love  
> Maddi

Flying low over the Empire's army a figure on a blue dragon slashes at the army until they fall motionless.  Limbs lying everywhere forgotten by their dead owners are disturbed by the red rider flying towards them.  Holding out their swords they slash at each other, fighting for control.  The blue dragon lunges for the red one's leg and grasps tightly letting loose a stream of hot fire.  Roaring in pain the red one wrestles in her grasp and claws at the sapphire one's face leaving her no choice but to release him.  Doing so the riders swipe their swords at each other catching one off guard and leaving a bloody red cut across his cheek. _I think I irritated Thorn a bit too much young one._ Saphira says apologetically.

N _o need to worry.  We can handle him._ her rider reassures her as she lunges again only to have to focus her attention towards the hot stream flowing from her mouth. 

_Young one..._ Saphira says warily as her rider swipes at the red one again.

_Don't loose hope Saphira._ he replies her catching her uneasiness.

_Young one!  I can't hold it back!  We need to retreat!_ She shouts making the rider grit their teeth.

_Saphira I know you can do it.  Don't loose hope!_ He chides as she moves towards a retreat.

_Young one we need to leave._ She says and he slash at Murtagh even more until red hot flames overcome both the rider and his dragon. _I'm sorry young one...._

Some time later he awakes to burning limbs and an itch crawling over his skin. 

“Good.  He's awake.” Someone says happily, making the rider peel an eye open but it makes no difference.  Everything is black, and suffocating.

“How should we deal with him?  He is the last free rider?” a different voice hisses.

“Don't ask me you twit.” the first voice says and the second growls at him.

 “You're the oldest.  You should have more of an idea on how to deal with him _brother_.” the first says. Eragon hears the rustle of cloth as one of them turns to him and removes a cloth from his eyes.  Blinking at the harsh light Eragon see's two men, both very well built and smirking with hands shoved into the pockets of their robes.

“Well as the oldest then I think I should get the first hit then.” The first voice says.

“Go ahead dear brother.  Make him squirm.” The second says and the first smirks and pulls out a knife with a silver blade, freshly polished.

“Now young rider.  You answer our questions and we won't harm you... too much.” He says with a devilish grin as he twirls the knife between his fingers. “Firstly.  Where are the rest of the Varden troops stationed.  We all know that wasn't all of them.” He says and traces a line from the corner of his slanted eye to his pink lip with the tip of the blade. “No Answer.  That's fine with us.” He responds and starts to chant softly under his breath.  The trapped rider then screams in pain as his limbs turn bright red.  To the outsider he appears fine, just flushed.  But he feels as if he is burning alive. He screams with no care for himself and thrashes about wildly until the magicians send him into sleep.  

Saphira POV

The she-dragon struggles against her bonds the magicians placed over her. She thrashes from side to side, straining her muscles against the ropes with all her might. She falls against the floor panting form exhaustion.  She closes her eyes, praying for sleep, but a loud echo jolts her upright.  Surveying the room her eyes fall onto two men.

“Since your pitiful rider is not fulfilling our needs maybe you can.” The first man states simply glancing towards the dragon. Pride fills her tired body and smoke floats from her nostrils.  Her little rider.  So brave fighting back. 

“Maybe I wasn't clear enough.  Either you help us... or we kill your rider.” He says shaking his head making the light bounce off of the bald surface. Saphira growls deep in her throat the lazy tendrils turning to black smoke.

_If you have laid a finger on my rider you will face the wrath of a Daughter of the Sky._  She snap at him forcing her snout as close to the men as physically possible.

“If you want him safe you will work with us.” The second says a smug look painted onto his features.  The she-dragon blows a fast hot wind at the magicians.  The battle with Thorn sprained her glands that produce fire, leaving her with only sheer force to fight with.  Grumbling under his breath the second one forces more bonds onto  her forbidding any type of motion.

“She isn't cooperating.  Maybe visit with the red riders dragon will help.” the shorter of them suggests ignoring the hiss sounding from the dragon. 

“Yes but perhaps a visit with the devil child will treat her to respect her superiors.” The taller replies, sarcasm soaking his words

“And here comes our dragon.  Maybe this will teach you how to treat your elders.” The shortest says leaving the dragon with a cold chill covering her scales. This could be the undoing of them.  Of all of them.

 

Murtagh POV 

  
_Young one are you fine?_ Thorn questions his usually sarcastic behavior gone.

_I'm having to sit through one of the King's meetings again.  Do you think I'm alright?_ He retorts harshly averting his eyes from the map on the talbe and onto the girl beside the King.  She's beautiful.  Just beautiful but with that fact it is hard to believe that she has no admires.  Is she mean, arrogant, or just sheltered?  None.  She's simply doesn't want to leave the castle.  Why?  She's a half breed.  She claims that as a mistake she shouldn't soil the kings name any more then it already is.  And why does she care.  She's the kings daughter, and Murtagh's only friend in the god forsaken castle. 

“Murtagh.” The king speaks making him return his eyes back to the king's cold uncaring ones.

“Yes my Lord.” He respond coldly.  The king meets his eyes full force.

 “I was just asking the generals about their opinions on the new battle plan.  What is your response?” He asks keeping up public appearances.  _Like you give a damn what I think.  You will just go on with your plan no matter what I say._ Murtagh thinks quickly before recollecting his thoughts. 

“I feel it is a sturdy plan.  The Varden won't know what has hit them.” He respond strongly.

 “See.  If the rider see's no problem then the attack will work.  Now go and ready your troops.” He orders and the generals exit immediately but the remaining members can hear the whispers as they exit the room. 

“What is woman doing in a war meeting?”

“This is the men's business.  She needed to leave the room the moment the meeting started.”

“She's not even a rider.  What is she doing in here?”

“Murtagh.” The King says fiercely, in his cold voice he reserves for when the Generals aren't around. “There is, as you could say, one flaw with the plan.  It won't be you going to the attack.  It will be Maybelline”  Shock overcomes the rider  as the king starts to pace the table.

“Why are you sending her my Lord?  I thought you were planning on saving her for the last battle.” Murtagh question carefully knowing he is treading on thin ice.

“You have an eye for detail Murtagh.  As you said, I _was_ planning on saving her for the last battle but with the way things have gone, the capture of your damned brother, the replacements for the twins and the fact that the Varden only knows about two Empire riders... why not catch them off guard even more.  I figure send Maybelline while they are still getting over the grief of loosing their dear riders, and completely demolish them."  He says walking around the ruby rider eyeing him like a butcher eyes his cattle before he sends them to slaughter.  

Murtagh risks a glance towards Mayble and finally understand why she was so silent.  She knew about this and didn't speak up so that the Empire can have their secret weapon a secret even to them. 

“With this in mind I want you to train her every day from noon to dusk.  Build up her skills even more so that when she faces the Varden they won't have time to react.” He says proudly.  Murtagh agrees silently, because he has no choice.  He can't refuse his King's orders but if he doesn't speak up the king may not make him swear it. “I want you to swear it too me boy.  Now.” He demands, crushing Murtagh's slim hope.  He nods emotionless, but every word that tumbles from his red lips cuts even deeper.  After a moment of silence Murtagh speaks up.

“Will that be all my Lord?” I question and he nods.

“Yes.  At least for know.  I want you out at the courtyard at noon preciously.  Do not be late Murtagh.” he says and steps away through a door in the back of the room.  Standing there for a second after, Murtagh turns on his heel and walk out towards the doors that lead to the front of the castle.  Hearing the light footsteps behind him, he doesn't turn but feels a soft hand on his arm.

“You know Murtagh.  I'm not any more happy about this then you are.” She says finally speaking, voice clear as day and a soft soprano.  Gentle like a mothers voice yet still innocent like she doesn't quiet realize what this means.  “Going to war at a time like this.  How can he make such a decision and drop it on me like this without even considering the shape I'm in.  It's been some hundred years since I was last on the battle field.” She rants, and Murtagh let's her, knowing the comfort in having someone who understands his situation.  He speaks up slowly, careful with his words.

“Even with you being here through the entire war... it's still not any better.  Probably worse since it's been so long.  I know that's not what you wanted to hear but-”

“But that God damned king wants me to know everything before I head out on the field.  Figures.” She grumbles. Murtagh admires her honesty with herself. She know's she is out of practice with a sword, but she won't let anyone berate her on it. 

“Yes.  He doesn't care if you don't want to know but you will have to figure it out at one point.” He says smirking to himself, but then the smirk fades into a frown with these next words. “Has he told you yet?” He asks softly and she turns her emerald green eyes to her friend.

“Told me what?  Murtagh what happened?” She asks.

 “So he hasn't.  Figures.” He replies looking towards the setting sun.  He envies the sun.  It is allowed to leave and come to the land as it pleases while he is bound to this castle like a rabid dog. “Murtagh please!  What happened?” She asks stepping in front of him inturrupting his internal monologue. Taking a deep breath he softly speaks. 

“I killed Oromis and Gleadr.” He says softly.  Hearing this she slowly releases his tunic and her head falls into her hands.

“And it's because of me.  All because of stupid vows and stupid wars and... and... and this stupid King!” she whispers and a loud thud pulls her from her misery. 

_Young one you need not to be angry at yourself.  The only person who deserves your anger is the king who enslaved us._ A booming female voice says and she turns herself slightly to see her dragon. 

“Thank you Yawe.”

_It is my honor young one.  Just don't let my words fall on dead ears.  We will break free one day love.  I swear of it._

 


	2. Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again this was shit. Someone please tell me to stop posting this and to go back to my Larry Stylinson fics. Ugh.

**"** Harder!  If you're not going to fight me full strength then what's the point of this training!” Mayble cries towards Murtagh as they start their first training session.  Already Murtagh is falling behind the dark haired beauty's power and speed.  Slamming her dark blue sword against Murtagh's blood red one he digs his heels into the ground to stop her from slamming him backwards and onto his back.  Slashing his sword out she jumps back right in time to avoid any damage. “I told you to fight me full strength!” She snaps at him not letting him give her an easier time just for being a girl.

“I am!  Don't think I'm not!” He responds after taking a deep breath.

 _You know young one.  Even though this is a practice session I think we are learning that Murtagh needs the practice not you._ Yawe comments towards Mayble from her spot on the sidelines.

 _I'm not going to go easy on him.  The Varden won't go easy on him so why should I fight him here, even if it is just practice, at only half strength?_   She comments back.

 _The elves taught you well_. Yawe comments then falls silent again. Watching the two spar for another moment another dragon makes a comment.

 _You know young one even if she is a girl you should fight her like a man.  You and I, and well everyone in the castle knows that she doesn't like being pitied for any reason._ Slamming his sword down on Mayble's she twists the blades till it is hers that is in control and she slams him to the ground with her sword at his throat. _Besides.  You and I both know she can very easily kick your butt either way._ Removing her sword and replacing it in her sheathe Murtagh glares at Thorn.

 _Sometimes I wonder if you are still a hatching or really a grown dragon._ Rumbling in amusement a sparkle of mischief shines in the ruby dragon's eyes.

 _And I you._            

“You may end here today.” The King says from his place opposite of the dragons. “There is a meeting tonight and I expect both of you to be there dressed for the occasion.  That is where I will be releasing the news of your survival Maybelline.” He says and she curses his name silently in her mind.

 _I've told him thousands of times to address me as Mayble.  Why does he refuse to do that simple task I ask of him but yet he asks fifty thousand things from me?_ She thinks stubbornly but then has Yawe interject.

 _Young one watch your thoughts.  Even they aren't safe._ Yawe chides and Mayble bites her tongue.   

“Maybelline there will be servants up in your room after you are cleaned to make sure that you are presentable.  I wish for both of you to look and behave your best.” He says sending a cold glare at the red rider. “You are dismissed.” He says after a few moments of silence.  Starting off towards the castle the servants that have been drawn from their previous duties scurry to return back their assigned tasks so that the king doesn't catch them.  Quickly and silently Mayble arrives at her room to see a common female servant there.

“Lady Mayble.” The servant address and Mayble nods a kind gentle nod to the woman.    

“Good afternoon.” Mayble address and enters her room and walking through the small fireplace and sitting area with books scattered everywhere, to a small simple bedroom that appears to be untouched except for the unmade bed and a silver platter of what use to be fruit sitting on the dresser.       

“Your dress is on it's way.  The seamstresses had to make a simple adjustment but it will be here in time for the meeting I assure you.” The servant says and Mayble nods even though the woman can't see it.        

“Thank you Iloma.” Filling a tub with water using magic Mayble slips in and hears the door open to Iloma coming in to wash her hair.  Feeling the familiar rubbing of fingers through her scalp Mayble relaxes and closes her eyes as she leans back against the basin.  Normally she wouldn't have Iloma clean her hair for her but when the King says be presentable then you need to look your best or there will be consequences.  Finishing with everything in the bath room Iloma steps out to give Mayble some privacy.  Drying herself off and pulling on those dreaded coats you have to wear under the dress she steps into her main room to see the seamstress waiting there for her.

“Good afternoon princess.” The seamstress says as she gives a slight curtsy.  Immediately releasing her from the pose Mayble looks at the dress and inwardly curses.  It's not that the dress isn't beautiful, because it is far from that.  It's just the fact that such a beautiful dress must go to waste on such an unimportant meeting.  Stepping towards the princess both servants pull the dress on over top of the under coats and smooth out any wrinkles and tighten the dress in the back.  Having a low scooping back that shows off the even tan skin, because god forbid she can ever just have her hair down, the servants have to tighten it many times with dark blue ribbon to get the back to close fully.   In the front the bodice is an off white with lace over the cloth and blue fabric with a slightly puffed out skirt to try and make it more elegant.  The skirt itself tells Mayble this will one important meeting.

 

\--

 

“Where is the Varden stationed?  Answer me boy!” the first magician demands of the chained rider as spell after spell rolls off of his tongue.

“You aren't going to get anywhere with this!  Stop attacking the boy or we won't get anything from him.” The second says placing a soft buffer ward up to protect the boy.  Feeling the ward fall away Eragon takes in jagged painful breathes. “Us harming him won't get us anywhere.”

“And that dragon of his wasn't much of a help either.”

“Saphira.” Eragon breathes out the name of his dragon.             

“Silence boy!” The first snarls and sends out a wave of magic towards Eragon making him choke out a startled gasp.  Satisfied with the pained gasps the magician turns to his comrade and exchanges hushed words.  After a moment of silence both magicians leave and Eragon lies there wheezing and gasping for breath.  Hearing the door open Eragon just doesn't have the strength to fight anymore but instead of pain coming with the Ancient Language... Relief.  Peeling an eye open all Eragon catches is a glimpse of a black cloak giving him nothing. _Maybe the magicians sent down a healer to make sure I don't die._ He thinks grimly to himself.  _All I am is a toy to them.  A cat and mouse but the mouse will never die.  They'll bat me around for days on end and never get tired._

“Saphira... where are you?” Eragon whispers aloud then stares at the ceiling.

 

\--

 

“To show the Varden that we will not be pushed down no matter what they through at us we have decided to bring out our new rider.” Galbatorix says and ripples of amazement, concern, and questions run through the audience.  Holding his hand up for silence everyone quiets down immediately. “It is not widely known but a week from today everyone in Alagaesia will know that there is another rider!” He shouts with glee and all the people start cheering.  “Please step forward.  I present with you Maybelline.  She is a rider of the old and will lead our country to victory!” He shouts again and many people start cheering and a drone from the back of the crowd starts to roar.         

“Long live the King!  Long live the King!” Catching her breath in the back of her throat Mayble doesn't react like she wants to.  She wants to run away and never come back to this. She wants to forget she was ever part of this dreadful event and return to her home in Ellesmera. 

“Tonight will be spent in enjoyment and feasts in her honor!  Let us enjoy the fact that we will not be broken down by the Varden!” He cheers and the audience’s voice increase to a roar.  “This is my promise to you.  Nothing, and I mean nothing, will ever break down this beautiful country we live in!” He vows and Mayble catches Murtagh's slight twitch of the lips at that.         

 _He didn't say it in the Ancient Language so they shouldn't expect much._ Murtagh thinks and Thorn chuckles.         

_You observe him well young one._

_Am I supposed to let him continue with his reign of terror?_   Murtagh questions.         

_No but you seem to be thinking that with no fear of him finding out.  Why?_

_Because Thorn,_ he sighs.  _The King already knows of my hatred for him.  Why would I try and stop myself from thinking a truth._        

 _Point proven young one but do watch yourself.  If he enters your mind then you have no way to defend yourself from this conversation._ Thorn says and cuts the conversation off.

“Let the celebration begin!” The King roars breaking Murtagh from his thoughts.  Clapping because he has to keep up appearances the crowd roars and plenty of people rush forward to question the “new” rider.  Pushing his way through the crowd to make sure Mayble isn't being overwhelmed, Murtagh is grateful that she is keeping up the public appearance easier then he thought she would. 

 _You do tend to forget I am older then you think Murtagh_.  She chides him and a faint tinge paints his skin.    

 _With you looking not a day over twenty it's hard not to believe that you are as old as you believe._ He responds hands at his sides.  Meeting his eyes for a second a hint of amusement is caught in the emerald depths.

“Lord Murtagh.” a small voice says and Murtagh looks behind him to see a small common girl standing there looking embarrassed.  Hearing some laughter Murtagh notices some other girls off to the side snickering.  “Uhm... could you... well... please, you know.”          

“Return to your group.” He orders sternly but not coldly.          

“I'm... I'm sorry for disturbing you.” She whispers softly and turns to leave when he says.          

“I'm not banishing you.  I'm just requesting you leave me be.” He says and the child nods and runs off.  He doesn't intend to be mean to people who approach him but he doesn't enjoy the stardom that comes with being a rider.  Especially one for the Empire      

With feasts and drinks a certain area in the courtyard becomes open to dancing and a silent request from the king reaches the two riders ears. _Give the crowd a dance.  It's what they would want._ Meeting eyes Mayble's eyes gain an inquiring feel about them and Murtagh nods.  Taking her hand softly he twirls her onto the dance floor while the crowd parts like the red sea for the two riders.     

“Why does he force us to do these events?” Mayble asks her companion and Murtagh glances around the area to see how many eyes are on them.          

“Because as his _loyal riders_ we need to show the empire that they still have our promise to keep them safe.” He whispers coldly.          

“Well I'm not a loyal rider of his that's for sure.” She mumbles and Murtagh glares at her coldly.          

“Watch what you say.  None of your words are safe.” He whispers and she looks away as their simple and quick dance ends.  Escorting her off the dance floor Murtagh softly keeps a soft grip on her hand in an escorting manner.  Heading towards the castle door the King steps in their way and smiles kindly for the guests but with a coldness the two recognize a little too well.

“Where do you think you are going?  The party has only just begun.”           

“We have arrived and shown the guests that we are supporting of your goal.  That is all you requested of us.”  Murtagh says calmly.  After a moment of silence and narrowed eyes being sent from the King he moves aside.           

“You may leave but this will be the only time you shall get away with this.” He says and the two nod and exit the courtyard.  Getting inside Mayble automatically sends up a silencing spell.

“Why?” She hisses and Murtagh looks down at her having released her hand. “Why did you drag me from the courtyard like a weak dog.” She hisses           

“I knew you wanted out of there.  Anyone could tell that.” He responds and she moves in front of him blocking his movement.          

“How do you think that makes me feel Murtagh!  And the little reputation I have?  It makes me seem like I can't take care of myself.  It's bad enough that I look like I'm some kind child but when you treat me like a child it doesn't help!” She snaps furry growing with every word.           

“I wasn't treating you like a child Mayble.” He responds calmly.      

“Yes you where!  I hate going out in public as it is but when you do things like this.... Dammit Murtagh!” She snaps and moves to her room shutting her door quickly. Sighing he rests his head on her door for a moment before heading towards his room a moment later to think about ways to apologize.  An angry Mayble isn't something you want to deal with.


	3. Three

The only thing preventing the blue rider from going insane is the silence. It’s mind numbing, clearing his thoughts and blocking the pain.  It’s all numb.  He breathes deeply and carefully, his chest aching from the beatings.  His eyes focus on the ceiling, tracing out patterns amid the wood.  The door creaks open, but Eragon ignores it, hopping the magicians will leave him be. 

“He’s gone mental.” One of them states, but taller of the two moves forward slamming his fist into Eragon’s leg sending pain coursing through his body.  He gasps in pain, his back arching from the table.  He grits his teeth and his head hits the table loudly as he groans.  Falling back against the wood he pants hissing in pain with every motion.

“Perfectly fine.” He states and backs away.  The younger twin reaches into the folds of his robes pulling out a flask.  Taking a drink he hands it to his brother and moves forward to Eragon.  The rider steels his eyes against the man.  He’s short and stocky, resembling a dwarf.

“So rider.  Are you going to answer us today?” He asks, a wicked smile on his mouth. Eragon bites his tongue to keep himself from biting back. “No answer.” The magician states before laughing.

“Let’s resort to magic brother.” The other suggests laughing.

“Agreed.” The two meet eyes before speaking softly in the ancient language. 

“Brisingr.”

Fire erupts at Eragon’s feet and chases up his legs at an alarming rate.  He screams and thrashes before the pain stops at the sound of a door opening roughly.

“What’s going on!” A male shouts. Eragon gasps for breath closing his eyes and grimacing. 

“We were interrogating the prisoner like you requested my lord.” The oldest says softly.  Eragon call hear the magicians kneel before the figure. 

“You were instructed to interrogate, not kill!  If he’s still in this shape when I return you two will be to blame.” The voice snaps before moving towards the rider.  Eragon’s jaw is grabbed roughly and his head is tilted back to look at the figure.  He meets his eyes with this new man’s.

“Hello Eragon Shadeslayer.  Welcome to the Empire.” The figure states and throws his chin back to the natural position. “You two come with me.  You can fix him later.” The figure snaps and leaves the room.  Eragon closes his eyes and breathes deeply before fighting his restraints.  His wrists and ankles are raw and bloody but he doesn’t care.  His only goal is to leave the castle.  The door opens again and he stills before trying to look around at the new person.  He catches only a female hand as it rearranges the cloak.  The figure moves closer to him and Eragon closes his eyes praying he isn’t abused again.

The girl holds her hand over Eragon’s torso and murmurs something in the ancient language.  Eragon stiffens at first but relief flows through his legs and up to his chest, healing his injuries.  He breathes out deeply for the first time all day. 

“Thank you.” He breathes closing his eyes and leaning against the wood. The magic stops for a second before the girl speaks, confirming Eragon’s suspicions.

“It’s my honor Shur’tugal.” She says and resumes healing Eragon.  A moment later she leaves, leaving Eragon alone again.  He closes his eyes and breathes deeply before extending his mind and searching for his dragon.

\--

“Maybelline you are late.” The king states loudly as she closes the door.  She flinches, and closes her eyes praying she won’t be reprimanded. She turns and gives a curtsy before speaking.

“My apologies.” She says softly and moves to take a seat at the head of the table, between Murtagh and her father.  She clenches her hands tightly in the folds of her dress. 

 _How could I be so stupid!_ She chides herself.  _First meeting and already late._

The king meets her eyes before speaking.

“Now that our entire party is here let us begin.  As you know Maybelline will be joining Murtagh on the front lines as soon as our next attack is finalized.” He speaks calmly.  Galbatorix paces the room and stares at the map on the table in front of them. 

“The next attack on this rebel band will take place here.” He says leaning over Murtagh’s head and tapping a city, _Melian,_ with a knife.  He stabs the knife through the table and stands tall eyes surveying the members of his cabinet.  Mayble risks a glance to Murtagh and he’s gritting his teeth, blankly staring at a tapestry on the wall.

“With the blue rider currently in our custody, the Varden will be vulnerable.”  He drones on.  Mayble closes her eyes to steady herself.  She doesn’t want to kill.  Having to kill and continue to live is one of the worst things she could do.  The guilt eats away at her unlike Murtagh, who can block his emotions when they get too much.  She hears one of the officers make a comment about her abilities and Mayble turns her head towards them, urging them to shut up. 

“What was that?” Galbatorix asks meeting eyes with the general.  The general blushes a pink color before stumbling over his tongue. “Come now. Spit it out.” He commands. 

“I didn’t mean any disrespect my lord.” He starts and Galbatorix cuts him off.

“That’d irrelevant.  You disrespected me and my daughter.” He says with a pointed look to Mayble.  She speaks softly but strongly.

“I believe it was an accident father, there’s no need to be harsh.”

“Perhaps a warning then?” He states making her swallow back bile.

“My lord I meant no harm!” The general shouts.  With a glance towards Murtagh, the ruby rider stands and moves behind the general and holds him down in his seat.  Murtagh meets Mayble’s eyes for a moment sending a quick message towards her.

_Listen to him._

She nods slightly and looks to her father.

“What do you suggest?  I could remove a finger or two.” She states and he nods towards the general, who is now thrashing in Murtagh’s grasp. 

“My king!  I didn’t mean any ill harm!  Please understand that!” He begs as Mayble stands. She pulls the knife from the center of the table and moves slowly meeting eyes with the man. 

“If he makes another sound remove his hand.” Galbatorix states.  Mayble nods sadly when the man cries out.

“Please, if you stop fighting it will be easier.” Mayble states softly grabbing his arm and forcing it down onto the table.  With one hand she holds his hand down and uses the knife to spread his fingers.  She can feel the entirety of the cabinet watching her.  She takes a deep breath and grasps his knife tightly.  The man struggles against Murtagh’s grasp and she grabs his arm holding it against the table top.  Swallowing tightly she quickly lowers her knife hearing the sound of bone cracking.  The man screams out turns his head away tugging his arm in Mayble’s grasp.  Murtagh tightens his grasp on the man, keeping his eyes away from the blood soaked table.

“Again.” Her father booms.  She pushes the decapitated finger to the ground before wiping the blade on the man’s sleeve. She cuts the air again, the cracking of bones once again sounding.  She swallows deeply glancing away for a moment to collect herself. 

“Once more.” He orders again.  Mayble swallows about to cut again, but her father speaks louder. “The thumb.” He commands.  She nods and leans her head forward, hoping the stray pieces of hair will hide her face.  Closing her eyes, she removes the last digit with a scream from the general. 

“That will be all for today.  There will be another meeting tomorrow at noon.” He orders, letting the generals and commanders rush from the room, a group of three men quickly assisting the injured man in leaving the castle. Mayble tosses the blood stained blade carelessly across the table, letting Murtagh touch her shoulder. 

“That was unnecessary father.” She speaks. 

“He insulted you.  I will not stand for my blood to be insulted in my court.” He says and she looks him in the eye. 

“I was not insulted.  Father you wanted to exhibit power, but having me remove three of a man’s fingers will not do that!” She snaps standing her ground.  Murtagh quickly drops his hand from her shoulder.

“Mayble.” He warns, yet the king holds up a hand.

“Now, now Murtagh. Let the Princess say her piece.” He states and looks to Mayble.

“You know nothing father.” She snaps.  “You think fear will control them, but it makes them hate you.”

She turns on her heal and exits the grand hall, her boots making a solid echo in the corridors.  Making it to her bed room she pushes the door open and slams it shut before falling into her lounge.  Her head hangs in her hands. 

“You shouldn’t have snapped at him.” A soft voice states.  She sighs.

“Murtagh, not now.” She breathes and closes her eyes for a moment before feeling kind hands on her shoulders. The slowly move to her hair and tug the pins holding her curls in place, letting them fall against her back. 

“I’m sorry.  I should have offered myself to do it.”

“No, it’s better I did. He would have made a point for me to do it.” She states and leans into Murtagh’s side.  He presses his cheek to her hair.  Simple moments reveal the depths the two would go to for each other. 

“I would’ve tried anyways.” He whispers, fingers playing with her loose curls. She smiles to herself and let her fingers tangle in her skirts. 

“Thank you.” She whispers in the ancient language, letting the words roll of her lips.  “Thank you for everything Murtagh.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge thank you to everyone who has reviewed. I have multiple people telling me to stop calling this shit, so I guess it's upgraded to decent. Thanks so much and I am going to be rewriting all the chapters, to edit out grammar and any other errors that 15 year old me made. Still will follows the same plot as originally planned out so don't worry! Love you guys so much!  
> All the love  
> Maddi xoxo

**Author's Note:**

> wow this was shit. let me know if you like it. I'm posting chapter two tonight as well because why the hell not.


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